


Percival Graves and the Curse of the Holly Jolly Jazz Baby

by RainbowWisher



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Jazz Age, MACUSA Holiday Party, Pre-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Tina is a BAMF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowWisher/pseuds/RainbowWisher
Summary: What most people didn’t know was that Percival Graves was a fantastic dancer.Or at least he had been when Tina Goldstein was fresh out of Ilvermorny, and had just been chosen for the MACUSA aurors’ training program.





	

What most people didn’t know was that Percival Graves was a fantastic dancer.

Or at least he had been when Tina Goldstein was fresh out of Ilvermorny, and had just been chosen for the MACUSA aurors’ training program. 

There had been some sort of tradition surrounding the department Christmas party that mentors and trainers were expected to offer to escort the aurors-to-be to the shindig. Most of her fellow trainees had had the presence of mind to politely refuse the invitation, but she had been slightly blindsided to suddenly find herself faced with a tightly smiling Mr. Graves one afternoon as she sat with a mountain of overdue paperwork stacked haphazardly around her at her temporarily assigned desk.

“Miss Goldstein,” he said by way of greeting.

She tried not to quail as she stared up at him, mind already scattered about, searching for any misstep, something she may have done wrong in the last 24-48 hours. Tina offered him a tremulous smile. “Mr. Graves, sir.”

His gaze snagged on one of the bits of paper she was working on, and his mouth turned into a small, thoughtful frown. “O’Donnall has you clearing up his backlog, has he?” Graves startled her a little by giving a small, wry laugh. “I honestly can’t tell if the man is a master of delegation or just the laziest dewdropper in the department.”

Tina opened her mouth and then closed it again, correctly interpreting his statement as a rhetorical one. She shrugged a little, a small, almost helpless gesture. “Was there something I could help you with, sir?”

The senior auror glanced at her again. “Sort of. I was wondering if you’d like to attend Saturday’s Christmas party with me?”

She caught herself doing her best fish impression again, completely discombobulated. She wasn’t quite sure if she had gone completely pale, or if her face was bright red, since she was pretty certain that she couldn’t even feel her body anymore. Slowly, to her horror, she felt herself beginning to nod.  Graves stared at her for just a moment, appearing to be quite as surprised as she herself was, before he offered her that same slightly strained smile as before. “Excellent-“ she was pretty sure he felt it was anything but, that he had fully expected her dismiss his invitation- “I’ll meet you here at, say, 7:30?”

“Yes!” Oh, there were her words; they were embarrassingly loud and traitorous things. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Tina, of course, had made no plans whatsoever to attend the Christmas party at all, and, as a consequence, had absolutely nothing to wear. In fact, she had been so swamped with trying to catch up on O’Donnall’s paperwork that she had literally forgotten that she was supposed to be meeting Graves until two hours before she was supposed to be at the MACUSA headquarters.

Just seconds after she felt the first spike of panic, Queenie ran into the room, a dozen of her dresses floating behind her. “Oh, Tina, honey, it’s okay! We’ll find something here, fix it right up!”

Her sister had always been much better at this sort of thing than she was, so she stood in the middle of their apartment and let Queenie slip each dress over her head, and then evaluating each with a critical eye. The ones she liked, she made Tina look at herself in the mirror and let her make the final decision. None of them were her dresses, so they all looked a little ill-fitting on Tina. Queenie, however, was a genius when it came to alteration charms.

They both finally settled on one: a creamy white dress with a silver leaf floral pattern and gossamer fringe that started at the knee and hung to the floor. That decided, Queenie gently batted her hand away when she started to try to do something with her hair. She leaned over her sister’s shoulder and smiled at her in the vanity mirror in their bedroom. “You spend so much time taking care of me. Let me do this one for you.”

By the time Queenie was done, her hair was slicked close to her head, small finger curls elegantly placed to frame her face and forehead. She was also wearing far more make-up than she thought she ever had before, which still wasn’t a lot, if she went by what she had seen around the office from time-to-time, but still more than she was strictly comfortable with. Queenie giggled a little. “You look fine, doll. Better than fine. Mr. Graves won’t know what hit him— or anyone else in the office, for that matter.”

In the end, she’d had to transfigure a pair of her shoes to try to match the dress (to moderate success), and borrow a pair of her sister’s stockings (generally speaking she hated the things and didn’t touch them if she could help it). Unable to look at herself in a mirror anymore, and running out of time anyway, she shrugged on a long coat, grabbed a borrowed clutch, and turned to say a quick good-bye to Queenie. Her sister surprised her with a pair of earrings that had once belonged to their mother. She fixed them to Tina’s ears with a whispered charm, and then grinned, hugging her tightly. “Knock ‘em dead, jazz baby.”

Tina arrived in the MACUSA lobby precisely on time, but still fretted for a moment, since they had not really specified where in the building they were to meet. She needn’t have done so, however, for she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. Mr. Graves was descending the steps toward her, looking as dapper and put together as he always did. “Miss Goldstein.”

“Hello, Mr. Graves, sir.” She fought the urge to pull her coat more tightly around her, and instead took his arm when he offered it. She had a split second to wonder if he felt half as awkward as she did before the pinch of apparation twisted at them both, depositing them at the party’s venue in an instant.

The large, evidently abandoned warehouse had been charmed so much and warded so heavily that she could practically feel the magic in her teeth. She wondered what the space actually looked like under the swaths of silk and columns of gilded marble that lined the walls and covered the windows, respectively. Dozens of tables floated around the room, always near-at-hand, but never in the way, and a live band was playing for a few brave couples already on the dance floor. Fairies flitted through the air, sometimes in time to the music, others just roaming from the various floral displays that dotted the room, each distinct, but not overpowering. House elves unobtrusively roamed the room, carrying trays of drinks and sumptuous food.

Tina had barely been able to take it all in, when a witch appeared next to her and offered to take their coats. Still slightly dazed, she unbuttoned and slipped it off, handing it to the other woman. Even above the music, she heard Graves take in a sharp breath, but when she glanced at him, he was looking out over the room. For a scant second, she had thought that maybe that reaction had been for her, but that was absurd. His throat bobbed a little, and then he cleared it and asked, “Drink?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” He had already snagged a couple of flutes from a passing house elf and handed one of them to her. She watched the bubbles swirl through the golden liquid, and mused aloud, “I wonder what the department’s stance is on Prohibition at a sponsored event.”

Graves’ mouth twitched upward. “Not as liberal as one might hope, Miss Goldstein.”

“Tina, please, if you’d like, since this is supposed to be a party.” She was torn between feeling proud of herself for her boldness and mortification if it went poorly. Really, it hinged on his reaction.

Fortune evidently favored the brave, then, because he regarded her for a moment, and then: “Percival. Percy.” Another one of those minute smiles. “For the evening. Tina.”

She felt herself giving an answering smile. “Of course, sir. Percy.”

They were distracted from any potential- further- awkward pauses when one of the department heads came by and spirited Graves away to talk for a moment about business. Graves seemed to be actually contrite when he offered his excuses and left with the older man, leaving Tina to her own devices. Really, she had two choices: stay anchored, literally and figuratively, to her current table, or cut ties and let herself roam aimlessly adrift through the growing sea of faces.

They had to have been close to the docks, for all of the open-water similes that were running through her head. She hid a giggle behind her glass at her very silly thoughts, wondering idly if the drinks might be stronger than Graves- no, Percy had thought.

Draining her glass and soon substituting it for another, Tina pushed off from the table and began winding her way through the room until she saw someone familiar. It was another auror in training from her group; he was with a few of the girls from the wand permit department. She ignored their open staring, and instead addressed her fellow trainee. “I’m a bit surprised Wallingford let you out.”

The man- Thomas Blowfeld, she was pretty sure that was his last name at any rate- turned a wide grin at her. “Nah, the old man’s not that bad. Doubt we’ll be seeing your O’Donnall, though.”

Tina’s brows rose. “Oh?”

He gave her a succinct nod. “Yeah, word is he got raked over the coals on account of a mountain of backlogged paperwork. Merry Christmas to him, am I right?”

Tina found herself laughing along with the wand permit girls, although she had a feeling that her own amusement was far more genuine. The band struck up a tune that even she recognized as popular, and suddenly the girls were being whisked away to dance. Blowfeld looked at her in polite askance- Tina gave him a small, dismissive smile- and then he, too, was gone, off to cut a rug with someone he obviously knew.

Rather than just stay where she was, tethered to yet another table, Tina wandered the room again, shoulders bopping a little to the beat and drink mysteriously and rapidly disappearing. She drifted into and out of random conversations with an ease that was normally foreign to her. Yeah, there was no way that this was a strictly dry affair.

She was quite content to stay on the periphery of the swelling dance floor, and had just made up her mind to get another drink, when Graves appeared in front of her. Or maybe she just happened upon him. Either way, he was there, and extending his hand. “Care to take a spin, M- Tina?”

For a moment, she toyed with the idea of turning him down, but the dancing was fun and the music inviting. She had a feeling that this might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance of not only seeing Percival Graves dance, but of getting to be his partner for said dance. In the end, it was bemused curiosity that won out. Taking his hand, she gave him what she was sure was a somewhat shy smile. “Sure, okay.”

And then Graves’ hand was in hers, and he was guiding them both out onto the floor. Tina had absolutely no idea what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the well-led and surprisingly complicated foxtrot that Graves was taking them through. For the first time ever, she was grateful that her sister had insisted on spending many a night making Tina dance with her throughout their small apartment. She was fairly certain she was holding her own; at the very least, she wasn’t tripping over the fringe of her dress or stepping on his or anyone else’s feet.

The song soon transitioned into a spirited Charleston, which saw both of them joined by several other dancers. They made their way back together again, however, for a slower, elegant waltz. Graves said very little, but smiled at her from time to time. Tina wondered what was going on in the senior auror’s mind, but supposed it didn’t really matter as long as they were both having a good time.

A slow, thrumming tango pulled them together more tightly than any dance prior, and Tina tried to ignore what was undoubtedly the thud of his heart against her chest. She was finally close enough to him to see the lines of sweat rolling down his temples. She also became slowly aware of a dull ache in her feet. “Tina…”  She looked up into his face, and found him still smiling at her, but it was at odds with the tight pull of his jaw, like he was gritting his teeth. He shut his eyes briefly, breathing through his nose. “How long have we been dancing?”  Tina shrugged a little as they moved through a series of long strides. “A few songs, why? Do you want to stop?”  His hand gripped hers tightly for a moment, and she winced. “Sorry. I don’t think we can. Try to look around. I think we’ve been hexed.”

Graves gave her an artful spin, out and back in again. He was right. All around them, what couples that were still standing were sagged against one another, while many of the others were sitting or lying on the dance floor. Their limbs, shoulders, fingers and feet would twitch every once in awhile in time with music that still drifted around them. When she was flush with his body again, Tina knew she had gone pale. “We need to find the source; shut it down.”

Her partner nodded once, a head bob that could have just been to the time of the music, and his lips thinned. “My wand is with my coat,” he admitted. “Hell of a time to let my guard down.”  She laughed- giggled, really (and would forever blame it on the spell)- and squeezed his hand. “Your secret is safe with me. Can you get me close to those tables?”

He raised an expressive brow at her, but still moved them through a few steps that not only got them deftly through the mostly downed crowd but also got them over to the area she had indicated. She spotted it, then: her clutch. She had left it with a sticking charm one of the tables, three deep from their current spot on the floor. “Accio wand!”

Tina felt Graves pull at her waist sharply, but managed to resist just long enough for her clutch to pop open and her wand fly like a Comet into her hand. “Sorry, Goldstein,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his grip loosening a little. “Evidently this hex has some tamper-proof safeguards in place. Good job.”

She simply nodded; there would be a time and a place to bask in his praise, but this was not it. They made a circuit of the floor, Tina firing off detection spells in all directions. “Nothing outside the dance floor,” she observed. “It looks like the spell affected everyone in the room, though. I don’t see anyone else in the room.”

“It must be something around the dance floor then- or above it.” He gave her a turn out and then dipped her low. Tina let her detection spell flow with each movement, until it pulsed brightly as it hit a low hanging decoration of faux fairy-lights at the very center of the floor. “Well done. Think you can disable it?”  “Without knowing exactly how it’s operating? Not very elegantly.”

The smile he gave her was almost mischievous. “Have something in mind?”

“Well, sir, I’ve always been a pretty big fan of setting things on fire and seeing if that sorts things out.”

Graves actually laughed at that, and it was such a genuine expression that it caught Tina completely off-guard. “Let’s see if I can’t get you a clear target, Miss Goldstein.”

They whirled around the floor, now almost the only ones still actually dancing, and made it the middle. Graves secured his hands around her waist, and bent his knee slightly. Tina leveraged herself on it and leapt up toward the swirl of lights, thrusting her wand tip into the very heart of it. “INCENDIO!”

The object exploded in a pop of light and a flash of deafening sound, knocking anyone still standing to the ground. Tina was- well, she wasn’t even aware of where she was until Graves was at her side, a hand around her shoulder and shaking it lightly. “Goldstein? Goldstein, are you okay?”  She sat up slowly, and found herself surrounded by a ruined table halfway across the room, which was now a flurry of activity. A wizard in healer’s robes appeared on her other side. “I’m… okay,” she tried to assure them, but her voice sounded strange even to her. “I’m okay, really.”

Someone was calling Graves’ name, and he looked up, said something that didn’t want to make sense to Tina’s addled senses. He looked annoyed when he turned back to her, but his comments were directed at the healer. “Make sure she checks out. I’ll be back, Goldstein.”

Tina was dimly disappointed to note that they were back to last names, but then dismissed it outright. “This is one for the books,” the healer was saying as he did a few standard charms on her. Her brain felt a little less fuzzy, at least. “MACUSA’s been trying to get into the building for hours.”  “Hours?” Tina blinked at him incredulously.

Slowly, the story began to filter through the crowd, and then the cause. By the time Tina had pieced together most of it, Graves was tearing through the room, cursing a blue streak, and looking like he wanted to Unforgivable no small number of people. He and a small clutch of the more seasoned aurors disaparated to a nearby dock in just enough time to stop a large freight from disembarking for international waters.

“Flobberworm mucus?” Queenie’s laughter was scandalized as they sat at a very late lunch later that day, after Tina had wandered home at nearly dawn. “Who would do something so elaborate over flobberworm mucus?”

“An illegal amount of flobberworm mucus,” Tina corrected. “And apparently the kooks who wanted to get it shipped out right under the MACUSA’s nose.”

“And two docks over? The nerve on them!” At least her sister had gone from being distressingly worried to tickled absolutely pink since Tina had woken up. “The papers are gonna have a field day.” Tina was still too tired to notice the sly grin that Queenie had suddenly fixed on her. “It’s just too bad you didn’t see Mr. Graves again.”

She shot her sister a mock glare. “I’m sure he’s way too busy for anything like that.” Tina began to smirk, however, and leaned back in her chair. “I sure don’t envy him that paperwork, though.”

Although many in the department quietly thanked and congratulated Tina on her work to free them from the hex, her involvement in the whole scheme went largely unpublicized. She didn’t mind her actions being underplayed so much, though, really. This was just training, anyway. She had a lot of time to do a lot more to prove she was just as good an auror as anyone. And even if she didn’t really get to train directly with Graves very often, she had to believe that her lack of grunt paperwork and throwaway assignments had something to do with his influence.

A tacit understanding grew between them, and neither of them really discussed the incident ever again.

Many years passed. The incident with the Second Salemites, her demotion, Newt Scamander’s Case of Curious Beasts, and the unveiling of Gellert Grindelwald all crashed through her life with dizzying speed. Her bittersweet parting with Newt was tempered somewhat with being reinstated as an auror, and she was the one who headed up the mission to find the real Percival Graves. Stunning no one but Graves himself, she had located where he was being kept within two days.

She was at his bedside when he finally regained consciousness. “Goldstein. Somehow I knew it would be you.”  He held his shaking hand out to her, and she took it, held it tightly. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Graves.” She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. “I should have known he wasn’t you.”  “Percy, please.” He shrugged, a small, pained movement. “By all accounts, Grindelwald did a masterful job in taking my place.” Tina was startled when Graves suddenly chuckled. “Maybe you should have asked him to dance.”

Tina laughed. Graves laughed. And then they both began plotting what they would do the next time they saw Grindelwald.

It had decidedly nothing to do with dancing.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I don't even know what this is. Not beta'd- any mistakes are wholly mine.


End file.
